The Demon

His feet are in step with mine. Same rhythm, same force applied to the crunchy leaves on the ground. He has been following me for the past ten minutes. Every curve in the trail, every fork in the road, he has followed. 

                  The trees sway in the misty wind, far above, while the frogs chirp and the birds croak down below. I hear his steps, not quite, but slamming into the ground, causing a shockwave. 

                  His dark form, only 50 feet behind, sucks all the air and energy from the forest. The trees lose their color as anything within a ten-foot radius of the monster behind me turns to dust. He stares straight ahead at me, his gaze locked on tight. The longer he watches me, stalks me, the less energy I have. 

                  I have heard stories of stalkers, watching their prey as if it was theirs to have, as if it was the natural order of nature. I have heard the stories told to me by my friends and family. The night stalker. The demon. The inhuman monster who terrorizes women in the night. Yet it isn’t night. Dusk, yes, but light still shines through the tall forest top. 

                  I’ve heard gurgled screams in the night, as the demon has taken his prey like a lion hunting a doe. Is it my time? Is it all supposed to happen like this? 

                  I realize I am holding my breath and release it as my heart pumps, shooting out of its tissue casing. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a trail of sweat following me, as I wipe my forehead, even if it is only in the fifties. 

                  Terry was right. I should have brought Doug with me. Doug is our 100-pound German shepherd. Instead, I have a bottle of water and my own two feet. My phone doesn’t work. No service. 

                  I remember the argument clearly. “Can’t you just run in town?” He asked.

                  “No, Jesus Terry, I need to practice on the terrain the competition is in. The hills in the forest will help with that.”

So, he let me go against his better judgment. Now I wish he hadn’t. I look up, the rays of light shooting through the trees are beginning to fade. Less and less poke through, making the ground in front of me warp with shadows, with demons faces just like the one behind me. 

                  I look up and in front of me on the side of the trail is a small but looming shack, made of dark oak. It is some sort of emergency shelter set up in case someone got lost. I checked behind me and saw the man was gone. I shiver and run to the building, hoping to find a working phone, but instead, as I open the creaky door I find nothing but a chair and some water and food. I turn back around and lock the door; in case he is still out there. 

                  Inside it smells like a library mixed with dust. The floors are covered with it, but the box of food looks like it was just replaced recently. The building isn’t what I would call a good shelter. The wind howls through small openings, as small strands of cold whip across my arms and legs. Is this how I die, from a serial stalker and murderer? He wasn’t out there last time I checked, but why would he just stop and leave? Why would---

                  A loud knock rattles the door to the shelter. I can see a silhouette of a man standing just beyond as I huddle into the corner, wrapping my arms around my legs. Suddenly the temperature drops about ten degrees as I can see goosebumps up and down my arms. I shiver from the cold but also from fear. From fear that I will never see Terry again. From fear that I will die in this shelter alone. From fear that the man outside the door will rip my heart out and eat it while blood drips from his chin onto my corpse. I feel the fear as the man tilts his head, trying to see through the doorway’s slits. Staring through the door is a dark black void of nothing but decay. I can see the door rot wherever he moves his body. 

Then black orbs glow from where his face should be as they eat away at my body. I feel bile rise in my throat and I shake even more violently. I’m being taken back to that day.

I am twelve. My parents are in the front two seats of the car when I see a blinding light. A crash and suddenly up is down and the floor is above me. Smoke rises to the floor and a blinding light shoots into my eyes. I can hear my father screaming in pain, howling like a dying wolf. I see blood on the floor above me and on the floor below. My mother’s lifeless eyes hang down in front of me, staring into my soul.  

I force my way out of the car and know what I must do. In the snowy night I run along the deserted road to the town I know is coming up. But I was slow. Too slow because when we got back, my father’s lifeless corpse hung next to my mothers, his face covered in blood as they say he quite literally choked on his own blood. I was too slow. 

A loud bang shoots through the shelter, waking me from my stupor. I am freezing and I can see my own breath in front of me. I can feel a dark dread sweep across me as the wood in front of me turns from brown to black. I see the man walk from the door and hear his feet move away. The fear leaves my body. Warmth returns. Why did he leave? What is he---

Dark hands, darker than a moonless night sky, reach through the wall behind me, almost melting through the wood, and grab my shoulder, burning a deep freeze into my skin. The room around me turns dark once again as my feet are now just an entity, an idea. I watch as they tingle, and fly away from my body, the world turns upside down, as the cold pierces my heart.  I can feel my blood slow as it freezes to ash. I can see my mother and father hanging from the ceiling of the shelter, staring at me with their bloodied eyes, begging for me to save them. 

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t fast enough!” I say.

I see Terry and Doug, sitting watching a movie in the living room, as Doug sneaks a taste at the bowl of popcorn next to Terry. Slowly, the memory turns to dark as Terry’s eyes turn black. Their bodies being frozen from black fire that fills the room.

I snap my eyes open and push the beings hands off my shoulders. I feel the burn where they were, but I don’t care. Rushing to the door, I kick it open, and run. I run past the entity of death, the night stalker, and run as fast as my feet will let me to my husband and dog. This thing will not hurt my family. I run as it floats behind me, tearing up the ground as it goes. The dirt turning to black decay. I run for my husband, I run for my dog, I run for my parents. I can feel the wind blow against my skin, I can feel the freeze behind me, when suddenly it stops. I don’t dare turn around. 

As I get closer to home, my phone regains service and rings. It is Terry. I answer it.

“Hello?”

“You have to run,” It is Terry, his voice, quiet. “It will kill us if you don’t hurry.” The line goes dead with three beeps. 

I push myself even faster than before. I will not let this thing hurt my family. I round the corner of the forest and gain clear vision of my house. It is burning with black fire all around. The roses in front wilted, straight up. The willows, flying towards the sky. I hear the demon in my mind, I can feel its presence. The cold. Its low hum of anger and despair, fills the air. 

The demon speaks in a dark, raspy voice inside my mind. It shakes the ground and the trees all around me.

“Five, four.”

It is counting down as I run, my breath burning through the cold, sweat falls to the ground, freezing before it touches it. I run faster than I have run before.

“3, 2.”

I imagine my father and mother’s faces. It won’t happen to Terry too. I have to run faster!

“1.”

I round the corner and push onto the front door, praying that it’s unlocked. 

I run into the house as I see Terry gasping for breath, half frozen, on the ground of the living room. The TV shoots a white light onto him. Doug lays down next to him, whining as his legs are stiff out to the side. 

I run into the room and immediately the darkness subsides. The color returns to the room, and the cold turns to warmth. The tension in my body releases as Terry and Doug slowly return to normal. I run to them and hug them both. I made it. I was fast enough. The demon is vanquished, and I ran. I outran death. I outran the demon.

Now, every night, we salt the entryways into our house, the windows, doors, even attic, because whatever this night stalker, or demon, is it isn’t a human. This murderous spirit preys on the weak and takes their most traumatic experiences and turns it against them. There may be no killing of this monster, but we can protect ourselves and warn others to do the same. And if you ever encounter this demon, make sure you can beat your own, it’s the only way you live to see another day.